My Love
by glambertcello
Summary: Poem about John's thoughts post-Reichenbach. Johnlock. Oneshot. I do not own Sherlock! Rated T cuz I don't remember what I put in there, so just in case!


Do you even realize

What you have done to me?

How you had begun to

Make yourself a little cave

Deep within the depths of my heart?

You make it impossible

For others to come in.

My guess is you're becoming

Rather territorial of my heart.

I do not believe

I can ever let you go.

In all honesty,

I would never want to.

Even now that you're gone,

Long retired into the grave,

I cannot release you.

If I even tried,

Grief might kill me.

My hopes for

What might have been

Is my only chance of survival.

My stubborn inability to cope

With overwhelming feelings,

Such as love.

Could that have been

My downfall?

My missed chance?

There is no doubt that

I greatly despise myself

For not acting sooner,

For not letting in what

I now confess to be love.

I cannot entirely

Put blame upon myself.

For I could not recognize

The signs, the plethora

Of knowing looks.

But you were

So damn _stubborn_.

So cocky, refusing to

Give others' intellect

The benefit of the doubt.

You will always be

My infuriating companion.

You will also be my only love.

Might I have had you?

Might I have kept you

Away from danger,

Away from that damnable roof?

Would you have broken

All of your quirky habits

To let me closer to you

Than any have dared before?

I like to convince myself

That maybe you would have.

That, upon my flustered confession,

You would take me

Into your arms,

Saying my name

And holding me close.

That we would live

The cliché life,

The fairytale life,

The kind that you might scorn,

Saying it is utterly ridiculous.

I imagine that you

Might change your mind,

After time for adjusting,

Of course.

The thought of you

Possibly loving me

Is the only chance of living

That I possess.

It may be a hopeless,

Utterly pointless wish,

But it gives me strength.

It is strength that I

Have a desperate need for.

I'm always so tired;

Exhausted, from having to behave

As if everything is okay.

I was never destined

To be an actor;

The idea that I would _want_ to act

Is a ridiculous one.

Improbable, you might say.

But I feel as if

Acting is something

That I must do.

A form of reassurance

To those that love me.

Not even my therapist

Realizes how broken

I truly am.

That—in your death—

I have nothing to live for.

When you fell,

You dragged my heart

Down with you.

You may never have

Realized just how much

You mean to me,

But you took everything

Worth living for with you,

Buried deep within the ground,

Alongside your grave.

It burdens me greatly,

Making it difficult to breath.

Every time I glance

Out of my flat window,

I expect you to be strolling,

Walking casually down the street.

You might be in

That ridiculous jacket

That you insist on

Continuously wearing.

A scarf looped tightly

Around your neck,

Shielding it from

Cool, crisp, autumn air.

But, every time, my glance

Has been in vain.

You never turn up.

I so desperately miss you.

No, I need you.

I need you to give me

That cocky grin of yours.

The one when you

Proved your intelligence

To yet another.

I need that irresistible urge

To kiss that smug look

Off of your face.

I need to hear

Your belittling comments,

Whether directed at me

Or a random soul.

I need you

To come back to me.

Perhaps I should just,

How does the saying go?,

"Face the facts".

Just realize that

I saw you die

Directly before my eyes.

But there is

A stronger part of me.

One that knows you

Are bloody clever.

Surely you can

Triumph over death.

You are a master trickster,

Sly and cunning.

I pray to something

That I'm not sure I believe in

That you might be alive,

And well, and safe.

I might even partake in religion

(I know, a ridiculous notion)

If it might mean

I could have you alive

And curled up in

My tight, protective hold.

There will always be

A nagging devil,

Whispering taunts

In my ear.

"All of your hopes,

All of your wishes,

Are all for naught."

But, I believe that,

No matter how difficult

It may be to face the day,

No matter what

The therapists say,

No matter what

The laws of the universe may be,

I will continue to hope,

To long for you to be mine

To love into eternity.

You will forever be on my mind,

My dear friend,

And you will forever

Fill the gaping holes

That are scattered in my heart.

Please return to me.

Mend your broken friend.

I beg of you,

Return to me.

Do whatever you must

To wriggle free of death's tight grip.

I know that you can.

And, until then,

I will be waiting for you,

My love.


End file.
